Chapter Four #4
I’m amazed he can joke about it. Maybe he’s changed a little after all.
“I’ll see you at home for dinner?” he asks, grabbing his briefcase off the floor.
“Yeah. I’ll ask Lucille to bake a chocolate cake for dessert,” Stella says.
“Sounds good. Have a lovely day, ladies.” He pushes through the swinging doors and out of the kitchen.
“We have the day free,” Stella says, helping herself to coffee.
“I need to go home and take my meds. I don’t have any here.” Only the one Jerricka prescribed on the side that I keep in my purse. I didn’t take it last night like she said, but my brain doesn’t seem any clearer. I woke up not knowing where I was, a shot of fear stopping my heart until I saw Stella sleeping next to me. So far, I haven’t forgotten who she is. I figure the minute I don’t know my future sister-in-law’s name is the day I know I’ve lost my mind forever.
“ Then we have the day free.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You and Gage had sex yesterday.”
I blush. “Three times.”
“Then, because we have the day free, I have the perfect plan.”
“Shopping! Lingerie. I like how you think.” I twirl, imagining the bright colors, the silks, the lace in the lingerie department at Bergdorf Goodman, but then the explosion blasts in my memory, the screams as people tried to run. The little girl crying for her mother. “Wait. Stella, people were hurt yesterday. There was a little girl...her mother might not be alive.”
Stella hugs me. “We’ll ask Peggy to call the police department and ask for a list of the people who were injured. We’ll set up a fund, okay?”
“Thank you.” I sniffle.
“You were the one who taught me. Remember the night I paid at the Sweet Apple? You gave me my money back. Up until then, I didn’t know...”
Somehow, I understand what she’s trying to say. “I wasn’t. Not then. Not the person I should have been. I don’t think I was until the first night Ash sold me. I thought I was special. That I didn’t have to follow the rules.” I poke at the mug of coffee Stella poured but didn’t drink. “People aren’t special because they have money. It couldn’t save me from Ash. Zane’s money didn’t save you. If someone wants Gage dead, my money won’t save him, either. Zane keeps saying he wasn’t who you needed him to be. How can I be who Gage needs?”
She pats my hand. “If he loves you, you already are. We’ll do something for the people who were hurt yesterday, and we’ll do something for Gage, too.”
“What?”
“We’ll put you on birth control.”
“Gage wore condoms.”
“And that was smart of him. He loves you and protected you. But, if you’re in a committed relationship, like Zane and I are, you on birth control so he doesn’t have to wear one is a good idea. I get a shot so there’s nothing to remember. Then, having sex, making love, can be a little more spontaneous. Yeah?”
“Okay. Making love without condoms. Do you like that?”
“I love it. There’s nothing better than being that close to the man you love. When Zane comes inside me, he leaves part of himself with me. I feel like we’re connected even if we’re not together.”
“The men who paid Ash never wore anything. They liked me messy.” Heat stains my face. Shame. “They made me dirty.”
“They disrespected you and hated you because of who your father was. Do you think Gage feels that way about you?”
“No. After we played, he cleaned me up. It was romantic.”
“It sounds like it was. He’s a gentleman. Let’s get you on some birth control. Then if he wants to still wear one, he can, and if you don’t want him to, he won’t have to. Being a grownup sucks sometimes, but being responsible will show him you care.”
“Okay.”
“Then we’ll grab lunch and shop. A woman has to treat herself after that. I can’t think of more unpleasant things.”
The exam won’t bother me. I’ve been checked out a couple of times since Zane discharged me from Quiet Meadows. I turn my brain off, and I will at the gynecologist’s office, too. I’ll think of Gage’s eyes bugging out of his head when I wear my new lingerie. Sex can be fun. Not dirty or shameful.
He taught me that.
Despite the crazy that’s been happening, I’m happy.
Stella and I talk to Peggy on our way down to the lobby, and Stella sneaks into Zane’s office wanting to kiss him goodbye. I love how much she loves him.
Instead of asking Douglas to drive into town, we order a car, and on the way to the house, Stella calls the doctor’s office and schedules my appointment. She rattles off my birthdate like it’s nothing because it’s hers, too.
I text Gage and ask how he’s spending his day. He sends me a picture of a beautiful black pickup truck. I don’t know the model—to me it looks like a newer version of what had gotten blown up. He asked Baby to pose, and she stands on her hind legs, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, near the driver’s side front wheel. I laugh and show Stella.
Can I come over tonight? I ask.
I’ve never been so much in love. The hole in my heart when we’re apart is devastating and it’s difficult to breathe. I need all my willpower not to message him all the time, not to insist we spend every waking second together. He has a life, friends, I bet, whom he hangs out with. A job, obviously. I don’t want to act needy, like I can’t live without him.
Sure. About six? I’ll cook dinner.
Perfect. I’ll bring dessert.
I shove my phone into my purse. Let him take that how he likes.
Stella called ahead, and when we step into the house, Ingrid’s waiting, holding my meds and a glass of water. Lucille’s also hovering near the door, wanting to hear news of yesterday’s explosion. She knows Gage’s truck, and she saw me along the edge of the video clip talking to Stella on my cell while Gage spoke to the police.
We tell her what we know, our theories, and what the police said, but we can’t tell her much more than what the news reports speculated. A few more details, maybe, because we know things about the Blacks the journalists don’t know or wouldn’t think to tie to a private investigator’s truck blowing up, but Lucille will worry no matter what we tell her.
I’m sorry I’m not asking her to go, and I hug Ingrid goodbye. One day, it will be for good. All the time I’ve spent away from home since meeting Gage makes me feel guilty, but I think I was outgrowing her before that. I’m in a much better place than I was when Zane hired her. Back then, there were few people we could trust, and Ingrid was one of those people. She’s put so much energy, compassion, and sympathy into my recovery, it isn’t fair she’s paid to sit alone in her room or keep Lucille company in the kitchen. She should be free to move on and take care of someone else who needs her as much as I did.
There won’t be time to come back before going to Gage’s, and I pack an overnight bag. On the way into the city, Stella and I chat about little things like setting aside an evening to open gifts and put away the Christmas tree and the other holiday decorations. I mention I told Gage I’d bring dessert, and she says we’ll stop by Love + Sugar after we’re done shopping.
Half an hour outside city limits, our conversation fades.
The future’s murky, and that isn’t new to me, but Rourke hating me, Gage’s truck blowing up, and my mind getting worse make the new year scary and uncertain. The things Zane said gives me the creeps. Is the explosion a sign of more things to come, or was it simply retaliation like Gage thinks?
This can’t be my entire life. There has to be more.
Word travels fast, and everyone knows my brother’s fiancée and I are in the city. Even though we enter through a private VIP door, a paparazzo tags us outside the ob-gyn’s building. There will be a ton of speculation come morning. Everyone on the planet wants Zane and Stella to have a baby. I think it’s funny how invested everyone is, and I tease her in the waiting room as we wait for my appointment.
“Maybe you’ll be the pregnant one,” Stella says, nudging me. “ Truth or Dare can have fun guessing who the daddy is.”
I wrinkle my nose. I hate the paparazzi.
My gynecologist is a polite older woman who’s happy I’ve found a nice young man, and she pats my shoulder so often I think she’s going to leave a dent in my skin. She tells Stella she can wait in the waiting room, and knowing my history of assault, once we’re alone, asks if I feel safe in my home and in my relationships.
I explain Gage is a private investigator, that he loves and protects me, and that I, too, am very much in love. My cheeks pink as I tell her. I’ve added another person to the growing number of people involved in my love life. I don’t suppose Gage has it any better if he’s hearing crap from his stepdad about dating me and if he’s wrestling with guilt Max and I were involved first.
“I need to consult your primary care physician, Miss Maddox. Just to be sure the shot won’t interfere with your medication and so he knows we’re adding birth control to your prescription list. I’ll be right back.”
“All right.”
Cold air blows through the exam room vents, and I’m lonely sitting by myself. For privacy, I understand why she asked Stella to leave, but I wish she was with me now.
My doctor knocks sharply on the door and pushes it open. “Things will be fine. Birth control can affect your hormones which can affect your mood. If you feel depressed, emotional, unhappy, or have thoughts of harming yourself, call and make an appointment right away. Other side effects include bloating and spotting. If anything unusual occurs, call my office or let Dr. Reagan know, all right?”
I doubt I’ll be able to tell if I feel any different due to the birth control, but I say, “I will.”
After a pelvic and breast exam and shot to the butt, I’m free to go. I schedule another appointment at the registration desk and set the reminder in my phone’s calendar.
Shopping’s pleasant, and all the salespeople love Stella. She has money to spend, and she’s nice. Not nice in a fake, polite way, but nice . She remembers who has kids and who has pets. She remembers the vacation or the husband’s promotion. She doesn’t treat them like salespeople, but friends.
Even my mother held everyone at arms’ length, reluctant to let people in, afraid they’d turn on her. I hope Stella’s friendliness isn’t ever used against her. She’s too sweet to turn jaded.
I buy bras, panties, extra pajamas, and a few other pieces to keep at Gage’s. He invited me to, but after my breakdown in his stairwell, I never did. It will be nice to leave a few things there. I like spending the night in his bed, waking up in his arms.
We stop at Love + Sugar, and I buy a box of éclairs. There wasn’t anywhere else we planned to go, and Douglas and Stella drop me off at Gage’s. Waving goodbye, I juggle the box, shopping bags, and my purse and bump the door to Gage’s building open. I clomp up the metal stairs and knock. He answers, a smile on his handsome face, and I drop everything and launch myself into his arms.
I’m the luckiest girl in the world because he hugs me back.
In an unspoken agreement, he carries me into the bedroom. He’s patient, slowly undressing me, and he kisses my skin as he removes my clothes. Sweater, leggings, bra and panties. He strokes his thumb over my nipple, and I lean into his tender touch. It’s dark in the bedroom, the sun having gone down, but I’m learning not to be embarrassed standing in front of him naked.
“Are you okay? After yesterday?”
“Yeah. I try not to think about it.” The explosion happened only the day before, but it feels like a lifetime ago.
He sits on the bed, and I step between his legs and lick at his mouth until he opens for me. Relaxed tonight, he goes slowly. I like it, the leisurely way he consumes me, but I enjoy the urgency, too. When he’s wild, like if he doesn’t have me, he’ll die.
We kiss, a long, unhurried mating of our mouths, and I unbutton his plaid flannel shirt. The material is soft and worn, numerous washings fading the blue and grey pattern. He’s wearing a white t-shirt underneath and I pull the hem out of his jeans.
“Pop read me the riot act after we left your place last night,” he says, throwing both shirts onto the floor.
“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”
I revel in the spicy flavor of Gage’s skin. Salty. I lick a little at his neck and brush my hands over the hard muscles of his pecs. I’ve never dated a man so cut. All the guys I used to see were lean, like Zane, from playing squash or tennis. They never lifted weights.
“How much can you lift?” I ask against his lips.
“More than what you weigh.”
I crawl onto the bed and watch him shuck off his jeans. “I’m a hundred and fifteen pounds. The drugs make me puffy.”
He comes at me, mouthwateringly naked, a predatory gleam in his eyes. It doesn’t scare me, though. It’s exciting. He’s hunting me, and I want to get caught. “You’re perfect.”
Gage hauls me into his lap, and his cock is thick and hard between us. I brush my fingers over his erection, his skin silky and smooth. He shivers and sucks in a breath. I don’t feel strange or apprehensive touching him anymore, and I love lightly running my fingertips over him, watching him react to me.
“What did your dad say?”
He cups my breast, teasing my nipple with the pad of his thumb. “That I put you in danger, that I wasn’t being careful. I wasn’t. You could have gotten hurt.”
“That’s not fair. How were you supposed to know?”
He covers my mouth with his and gently sucks on my bottom lip. Moving his hand between my legs, he opens me and I’m wet and swollen. I never need long when we’re together. I tilt my hips and slightly lift on my knees, encouraging him to explore as I stroke his cock, enjoying his body. I love how hard and soft he is at the same time. He’s so strong, but he’d never hurt me...he defends me instead.
He sheathes himself with a condom, and I lower my body onto him, the perfect fit. I feel more in control, and I stare into his eyes as I steady myself, my hands gripping his broad shoulders. Maybe it was the appointment today, or maybe I’m feeling more secure in our relationship, but whatever it is, I’m more in tune with him.
His finger circles my clit and I come, pressing my face into his neck. He groans as I orgasm, and he forces me down on his cock, his tip hitting my center in a delicious quiver of almost-pain.
I catch my breath, my heart beating frantically, sweat covering every inch of my skin.
His next words freeze my boiling blood in an instant.
“Will you turn over for me?”
Images flash in my mind, hazy pictures of men pushing my head into a mattress, spanking me, fingertips gouging my hips as they ram into my body while I cry.
I look away, ashamed I can’t do what he wants. “I’m not ready.”
Hs moves his hand up and down my back. “Okay, I’m sorry. We can stop if you want.”
I hate that my past affects us. I hate that what those men did to me can turn what Gage and I are doing into something ugly.
Burying my fingers in his hair, I pull him close. “Make love to me, Gage. Make it go away.”
Gently, without us losing our connection, he lays me onto my back and settles on top of me, murmuring promises into my ear.
He comes and presses his lips against my shoulder. “I love you.”
His arms are covered in sweat, and I slick my fingers over ink and damp skin. “I love you, too.”
We eat lukewarm spaghetti on his bed, and every time he feeds me a bite of garlic bread, he kisses me, our tongues tangling in passion and butter.
“I went to the clinic today,” I say, licking my lips.
Gage passes me a paper towel, and I wipe my greasy fingers.
“Are you sick? You should have told me if you didn’t feel like coming over.”
We dressed, kind of, me in a new set of the pajamas I bought, and he put on workout shorts and a t-shirt. Sitting on the bed, plate in hand, I haven’t moved since he carried me into his room hours and hours ago. It’s decadent eating propped up against the pillows, something I rarely do at home, mainly because Lucille will scold me if I sprinkle crumbs all over. I used to make popcorn and nibble while I read, but I don’t read anymore, don’t watch TV, either. What’s the point when I can’t follow what’s happening?
I don’t do anything anymore, if I’m not with Gage, except try to remember if I’ve forgotten anything. That never works very well.
“No, I’m okay. I got a shot.”
“A flu shot? That’s smart, I guess. A little late.”
I laugh. “No. A shot. Birth control. Stella came with me.”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Why? I don’t mind wearing condoms.”
“I know, but Stella says it’s romantic.” I press a hand to my belly. “To feel it. I want that. Do you mind?”
“Nope. I want to do whatever you’re comfortable with.” He lowers his voice. “If you want me to fill you up with loads of cum, then I guess I’ll have to take my job very seriously.”
I scoff, but I can’t stop my giggle. “Whatever. My doctor said to give it a couple of weeks to start working. What kind of cases are you and Linc working on?” I change the subject, and we clean up his kitchen while he tells me about an upcoming meeting having to do with a girl who killed herself last month.
“Her sister found me and hired us. We don’t have anything to prove she didn’t, though. It’s pretty sad. You never feel like that, do you?” he asks, wiping down the sink and eyeing the box of éclairs. We haven’t gotten to them yet, and six fat ones covered in chocolate glaze look pretty good to me, too.
“In Quiet Meadows, I was too drugged up to feel anything. Blank. Empty, I guess. When you don’t have any choices, when you realize, deep in your...heart... that this is going to be the way things are. Stella broke into my room and something, so, so small lit up inside me. The tiniest flicker of hope. It had been five years and I thought Ash had killed her, or one of her jobs. I was so sure he was going to do to her what he’d done to me. Have you ever had a dream where you’re running, but no matter how hard you run, you can’t move? That’s what being drugged up felt like. I wanted to talk to her, reach out, hug her, but I couldn’t move. She left and a part of me died. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”
I sink onto a kitchen chair, and Baby scuffles next to me and nuzzles her head against my thigh. Sliding onto the floor, I pull her close and bury my face in her fur.
“Why did she go see you?” Gage asks and starts a pot of coffee. The grounds smell delicious, and my mouth waters.
“I...don’t know. Richard Denton told her what happened, probably showed her the same video everyone else has seen, and maybe she wanted to see for herself. All it took was her snooping around to make Zane finally pay attention. Stella is my sister, my best friend, my savior. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for her.”
“Or her for you, obviously.”
The corners of my mouth lift up. “Yeah.”
“How did it feel going home?”
I stroke Baby’s fur. “I was confused and scared. I kept thinking Ash was going to find me. Lock me away even worse than before.”
He leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “Did anyone ever ask Black why he put you in there?”
I lift a shoulder. “No one needed to ask. He didn’t want me telling anyone he took Stella.”
Gage scrubs at his face, his fingernails scraping against his scruff. “And he didn’t want you pointing at anyone he sold you to.”
“That too, I guess.”
“But why Quiet Meadows? He could have brought you to his building, kept you locked up there the same as Stella.”
“Easier, maybe? I’d already broken down. You watched the video online.”
“Yeah, I have.”
“I looked like a stark-raving lunatic. I was so scared for Stella, and my brother...I hated him. Nothing was his fault, but I blamed everything on him. For being weak after Mom and Dad died. That wasn’t fair, but little did I know Zane’s trust would let Ash do whatever he wanted.”
Gage kneels near me, and the coffee drips, the rumbling of the machine comforting. “But you never wanted to hurt yourself.”
“No. All I’ve wanted since Zane brought me home is to get better. Now my doctor’s pulling back and I don’t know what’s going to happen. That girl, how did she do it?”
“Slit her wrists.”
I trace the inside of my arm. How would it feel to not be on this earth anymore? Not to be a burden to those I love? Zane and Stella could finally have their family, and Gage would marry a woman who could give him what he needs. I couldn’t use pills. I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime, and I’m too scared of pain to cut myself. Wander off in the woods? If I went missing, Stella and Zane would worry and send the dogs out to search for me and they’d find me in five seconds. I wouldn’t be able to hide and let myself freeze to death.
I sigh. “I can’t think of how I’d do it. I guess you’re stuck with me.”
“You can’t let Black have the satisfaction. You’re better than that.”
“Maybe.”
“No. He tried to rob you of so many things, but you’re going to get through this, Zarah. You’ll live your life, have your family, take everything he tried to steal from you, while he rots in prison, a victim of his own greed.”
Gage paints a lovely picture, but every second I struggle to put the pieces of my life back together is another second that Ash still wins.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s have a cup of coffee and some of that dessert. I have a full day ahead of me, and I need to go to bed soon.”
My day looms empty, another twenty-four hours of not working, not doing anything except hoping my memory stays intact enough I can fake my way through. Hide in my room or take the dogs on a hike. Putter around the kitchen or clean the house. Do laundry. I don’t have many options even if Stella’s home. “Can you drop me off at Zane’s office in the morning? He’ll order a car to drive me to the house.”
“Sure. That’s works because one of these days I’m going to need to talk to you about the time I’m spending on the road.”
We sit at the table, and I’m polite and cut into my giant éclair using a knife and fork, the vanilla pudding oozing out the side. “You don’t have to drive me. We have a car service and I can use them whenever I need to go somewhere.”
“I know, but if you order a car, then you’re not with me, and I’m really fucking nervous when you’re not.” He tries to smile.
“I can’t be on my own. I know that. I hate it, but I know it. It won’t be forever. Dr. Reagan’s trying to figure out what’s going on, and I start seeing Jerricka again next week. Maybe something triggered me.”
Gage pushes his plate away, his éclair uneaten. “Me, you mean.”
“No, I didn’t. It could have been anything. I’m not scared to stay here tonight. I wouldn’t have said I wanted to if I felt that way.”
“I would never hurt you. That explosion came out of left field, and we’re going to find out who did it, with or without the cops’ help.”
“I know. Let’s go to bed. You’re getting strung out over nothing.”
“I’m trying not to. I just hate the uncertainty of it.”
“ You do?” I quirk my lips. “This is my life.”
“You are brave, and I love you.” Gage kisses my forehead, and we clean up our uneaten desserts.
We share the bathroom, brushing our teeth, and while he’s letting Baby out for her last pee break of the night, I grab the prescription Jerricka gave me out of my purse. I didn’t take it last night, like she said, and I’m reluctant now. I’m already on so many medications, and even if Zane and my doctor okayed this one, I hate putting another pill into my body.
I drop the bottle back into my bag. What will it hurt to skip it? She said it was supposed to sharpen my mind, help me think clearly, but it seems it did the opposite. I’m seeing her next week and I’ll talk to her about it then. I haven’t been on it long enough to worry about withdrawals, and after I hang my purse up in the front closet, I don’t think about it again.
Gage wakes me in the middle of the night to make love, and I fully participate. It will be nice, like Stella said, once my shot starts working, not to have little foil packets interrupting our rhythm. If I can take any part of my life back, I do so, gladly.
I fall to sleep in his arms, and I don’t wake up until Baby bounces on the bed, welcoming in a new day.
Gage drops me off early, and I’m walking into Zane’s office by eight. He’s not in yet, but Peggy is. “He’ll be along. He called and told me he’d be on time for his eight-thirty.”
“Thanks, Peggy. We appreciate you.”
I hate to admit it, but I say it by rote. I don’t know Peggy well. I only know that Zane believed Stella ran off with Sergio Cardello and hired the older woman out of spite. She turned into a good assistant, and Zane never mentioned letting her go.
I wait in the office that used to be my father’s, but the space is hazy in my memories. Not because of the drugs, but because I didn’t spend much time here. Zane’s changed a few things, putting up pictures of Stella everywhere. A framed photo of our parents, the same one Gage admired in our living room, sits next to one of him and Stella. The two women couldn’t be more different...or more alike. Stella’s a little more aware. Mom came from money and Stella didn’t. She notices things about the world, like the price of gasoline and sales we don’t need at the grocery store. Mom didn’t do that. She didn’t care how much it cost to fill up the car or if her favorite perfume was twenty-five percent off if she used a coupon.
Lark Maddox cared about people and she cared about making the world a better place. She believed in paying it forward. I wonder how Mom would have handled me. What she would have done if she were alive, right now. How she would’ve taken care of me.
I miss her. Her grace and beauty. She always knew what to do.
Like Stella.
My mom believed in Clayton Black, too. She gave him a chance and paid for that with her life. I wonder why she didn’t go to the police or to the FBI. I wonder why she didn’t tell Dad. He may have had the same blind faith in Clayton that Zane had in Ash, but unlike my brother, Dad would have believed Mom. They’d been married close to thirty years by then. He would have believed her.
“Yes, he would have.”
Zane steps into his office, his black wool coat flapping around his legs.
“He would have what?”
“Believed her.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“You must have because I heard it come out of your mouth. Coffee?”
“Sure. I won’t stay long, though. I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You hardly ever visit me. You’re no bother.” He kisses the top of my head. “What were you thinking about?”
“Mom and Dad. Why Mom didn’t tell Dad what Clayton was doing.”
“We’re not sure. They were away for a wedding, and it’s possible she didn’t know what had happened. Or she thought she didn’t need to involve Dad. Either way, Clayton killed her before she could cause trouble.”
“Because she was sent an email she shouldn’t have been sent, right?”
Details like this are murky at best. The investigation started right when Zane pulled me out of Quiet Meadows, and back then, the only things I cared about were seeing Stella and Lucille and hoping to God Ash didn’t find me and drag me into hell again.
Zane settles behind his desk, picks up his phone, and asks Peggy to bring in a coffee service and reschedule his eight-thirty to nine o’clock. I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t need to do that, but before I can, he hangs up the phone.
“Clayton accidentally CC’d her on a piece of correspondence that detailed a weapons drop off. You know he was selling guns on the black market.”
“Yes.”
“He called her and invited her to join him. She said she wouldn’t, and the pilot crashed the plane. Clayton had to kill her or Mom was going to turn him in. That part’s in the black box transcript. You can read it, if you want.”
“She didn’t tell Dad.”
“Clayton sent her that email the night before the crash. We’ll never know if she checked her email and put it aside to deal with it when they were home or if she didn’t check and she didn’t know until he called her. Maybe she thought Clayton would listen to her. Maybe she didn’t want Dad to know because it would ruin their friendship. I don’t know, Z. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Then Max showed up and helped Stella and Denton.”
“Yeah. Why are you asking?”
Peggy knocks and wheels in the coffee service. She leaves silently, closing the door behind her.
I pour a cup and add cream, and I walk around his office, the sun glittering through the windows. King’s Crossing is awake now, the streets teeming with people on their way to work. Far into the distance, the Renegade sparkles. I wonder if Stella can look at the river and not think about being trapped on a ship, held prisoner in a cargo container. I like looking at the water. It reminds me of the weeks we were all at the Crowne. Besides being with Gage, the safest I’d ever felt since leaving Quiet Meadows was when everyone was working in Max’s suite at the hotel.
“I don’t know.”
Stella and I tried to puzzle out Max’s part in it, but Ash and Clayton are in prison, Max is dead, and Willow’s on house arrest in a bugged apartment. There could be things we won’t ever find out. Maybe I need to leave well enough alone and focus on getting better.
The only thing is, I think my recovery is linked to the past, but I don’t have the right questions to ask or the right words to explain what I mean.
“Max wanted a story, and he suspected he would find one investigating the crash. He had a friend who worked at the FBI’s headquarters, and she told him things. Things that proved what the FBI was feeding me at the time were lies. Banks lied to me for years. It was only later I managed to convince him it was safer to work for us than Clayton Black. All that’s over. We know Clayton killed Mom and Dad. Ash and Clayton are locked up. They can’t hurt us anymore, or so I’d like to think.”
“Did the FBI stop what Clayton was doing?”
“What do you mean?” Zane frowns.
“Selling weapons. Did they stop it? The email was proof he was doing it.”
He leans back in his chair and hitches an ankle to his knee. “After Clayton and Ash went to prison, I lost track of everything else. Banks found Stella’s mom and dad and my life went a little sideways.” He lifts a corner of his mouth. I remember how sad and scared he was. “The FBI is still going through what they were doing, and they’re still trying to figure out how much Willow knows.”
“Stella said Max’s dad and Willow were having an affair.”
“Even if they were, that doesn’t have anything to do with us, Z. Senator Cook and Clayton were probably business partners. Maybe Clayton was planning to help him run for another term. Obviously, Clayton and Ash found it to their liking to mingle with politicians. Ash linked up to the governor dating Nora Guthrie, and Mayor Huxley was a client of his.”
“Maybe Max found out something from Rourke.”
“Well, if he did, all we can do is thank Max for not covering up for his dad, but tackling Rourke Cook isn’t something I want to do, even if I can. Besides, there’s no proof he’s into anything. Clayton may still have connections, but do you think someone like Rourke would want to risk getting his hands dirty?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“My nine o’clock is about to start. Did you want something else?”
I tighten my hands around my mug. “I don’t think I need Ingrid anymore. All she does is sit at the house by herself.”
“Davenport isn’t a good replacement. He’s not a nurse.”
“I know, but we’re together a lot, and Stella’s not in school. Lucille is always around, and you work from home, sometimes. It’s not fair to her if I don’t need her.”
Zane ruffles his hair. It stands up and he looks like a little kid. It’s hard to believe he runs our business alone. Richard Denton and Larry Cramer are gone, and he never replaced them. He does the work of three people, but he seems more confident than he ever has before. Maybe now that he and Stella are finally settled, the rest fell into place.
He lifts his phone’s receiver and presses a button. “Peggy, can you look up Ingrid Flannigan’s employer? Zarah no longer needs her assistance. Tell them we’ll give her a year’s pay as a termination package.”
Peggy asks him a question, but I can’t hear the words clearly.
Zane looks at me. “When do you want her to move out?”
“As soon as she wants, I guess.” I bite my lip. I feel bad, but there are enough people in my life who know my every move. Maybe if Ingrid’s gone, I can breathe a little.
“She has until the end of the week. If she needs to find an apartment, you’ll help her?” He pauses. “Thanks, Peggy. Yeah, I know. I’m on the way.” Hanging up, he says, “Done. I want you to make your own choices whenever you can. You have all of my support. I hope you know that.”
“I do know, and I appreciate it.”
“Where are you headed now?”
“Home. I need to take my meds. Maybe nap.”
“Davenport had you up all night, huh?” He’s joking, and I smile.
“I don’t ask about you and Stella.”
“I’m glad you found someone. Just no more exploding trucks.”
“The one he’s driving now is too nice to explode. See you at home.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too.”
It’s no surprise Zane has a car waiting outside, and one of the security guards walks me down the steps and opens the door for me. Feeling lighter and more in control, I settle in and try to enjoy the ride. I’ve made a lot of decisions for myself in the past couple of days and it feels good.
Now, if I can hold off on another breakdown, if I can focus on my recovery, my future won’t seem so scary.
Gage helps.
Imagining our lives together will keep me on the right track. It’s all I want.
“Getting rid of me, huh?” Ingrid asks, meeting me at the door. She’s holding my pills and a glass of water, and she watches me swallow them before I can even slip my jacket off.
“Peggy already called you?”
“No. My employment agency. Your brother was very generous. I’ve never been given such a large severance package.”
“I’m sorry. I was at his office this morning and I asked him what he thought. He’s trying to help me find more independence, and I hate you’re here alone a lot now that I’m seeing Gage.”
She squeezes my arm. “You don’t have to explain or apologize. I’ve watched you grow from a confused young woman into someone who’s sure of herself. You might still be on some drugs, but you’ll get there, Zarah. I know you will. I’ll miss you.”
I hug her. “I’ll miss you too, but this is what I need now.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Where will you go?”
We walk to the kitchen, and Lucille sets out enormous cinnamon rolls and serves us coffee. She putters around, humming. There’s nothing she likes more than having people to feed.
“I sublet my apartment when Zane hired me. My sister said I can nanny her kids until my employment agency finds me something else. I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll give you a terrific reference, of course.”
She smiles at her plate. “Thanks.”
We finish our breakfast, and she goes upstairs to pack. I look in on Stella but she’s sitting in the window seat reading, and I don’t bother her. It’s too early to nap, and feeling confident, I let the dogs outside. If I don’t wander too far, I won’t get lost.
Sansa and Arya are happy to be let loose, and they run ahead, playing in the snow.
Ingrid doesn’t waste time, and an hour later an old, rusted car speeds up to the house. A large bag is slung over her shoulder, and she’s carting two heavy suitcases. She sets one down to wave at me in the distance.
She must have arranged her ride the second I stepped outside, and I swallow back a sob of disappointment. I run to try and catch her, wanting one more hug and to wish her well, but I’m too far away and the vehicle is chugging down our driveway and almost to the highway by the time I reach the house. She didn’t want to tell me goodbye.
Maybe she’s angry I let her go.
If that’s the way she’s going to be, it’s better we went our separate ways. Because of what the position entailed, I know Zane paid her above what she normally would have earned, and maybe she’s worried about finding a job that will pay her equally as well. Or maybe she liked living here.
All I know is I can’t stop crying.
I sniffle through the rest of the day and barely manage to eat dinner, and despite Gage calling to wish me goodnight, I cry myself to sleep. My throat is scratchy the next morning, and when I have to swallow my pills alone, my tears start all over again.
“Zarah, you saw Ingrid leave yesterday, right?” Zane asks, leaning into my room. He looks worried, and he’s not dressed for work.
“Yeah. We had breakfast together, then she packed. I was outside playing with the dogs, and I watched a car pick her up. It hurt my feelings she left so quickly. Why?”
“She didn’t check in at the employment agency, and her sister’s been waiting for her since yesterday morning.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, no one has seen her since she left our house. Ingrid’s missing.”